When I was a kid, my father was in the Army and we moved- a lot. IF (serious big IF) I had made any friends, when it was time to part there was always that moment when addresses and promises to write were exchanged. Sometimes I even meant it when I said I would write.
Now, in all those years, I did write a former pal once or twice, but I never received an answer. For the most part, I just didn't write.
My very long winded point is- I have a long history of not writing when I am supposed to. Hence, the mostly empty blog. I know, I am really sucky at this.
I have been busy. I swear. Just this weekend alone there has been an impromptu birthday sleep over for one of my daughter's friends (more on that in a paragraph or two), 2 family movie nights, two walks to the store and the usual housework (though for me it should be called house-punishment-torture...I really hate dishes and cleaning and all that grown up stuff).
About the birthday sleep over, my daughter has this friend (who doesn't know my blog exists, so I can speak freely) whose own mother is one of the most selfish and neglectful cows in the history of parenthood. Let's just say that in the nearly 3 years I have known the kid, I have given her more clothes and gifts than her own mother.
She doesn't even bother to buy her school clothes. By no means rich, she still finds plenty of money for stuff she wants. Meanwhile, her kid goes to school in too small and ragged clothes. Don't even get me started on the fact that she rarely launders said clothes and the kid has to wear items over and over, until they are filthy.
Last year, the week before her 12th birthday, the girl excitedly invited my daughter to her house for a birthday party. Only her mother didn't even bother to make a cake. I usually throw some low-key birthday parties- no pinatas, ponies or clowns, but I can whip up a frigging cake and blow up some balloons.
On the day of her birthday, she gave the kid $20 and told her to walk to the convenience store to get chips and drinks for her own little party. The 'party' consisted of my daughter, another girl and the birthday girl eating chips and drinking soda while watching youtube in the girl's bedroom. Mazel tov!
I guess it could have been worse and the mother didn't even do that much, but to me, that is like saying,"Be grateful I only broke your leg and stole your allowance, I could have slit your throat." Wrong is wrong, even to a lame degree.
When Christmas rolled around, I knew the kid would likely get the shaft- her mother couldn't be bothered to put up a decoration and told the kid there wasn't 'any Santa' and therefore, she wasn't going to receive a single gift. Now, I wrongly believed that the mother was trying to fool the kid and would later give a gift (not that I agree with this type of warped parenting, though I have witnessed plenty of it), but I was wrong. When Christmas rolled around, the only gift that girl received, was from my daughter. We gave her some Bath and Body works stuff and some books.
She was so grateful, I had to go into my room and cry after she went home. F-ing rotten mother, I could snatch her bald and set her toes on fire!!
So, Friday, it is the girl's birthday and once again her mother can't pry herself from online chat rooms long enough to do ANYTHING for the kid.
I had $10, so I gave it to her and baked some chocolate chip cookies. I didn't know she was going to, but she walked to the store and bought a cake mix and frosting, then came back and asked if she could make herself a cake at my house. If my heart hurts so much, what can that little 13 year old girl be feeling?
I let her and another girl stay over with my daughter. I tried to make it fun, lots of silliness, baking, snacks and movies. I even got up the next day and made my homemade French fries, because that girl loves them. This is a biggie, cause it is a pain in the ass to make fries the way I do- clean, slice, soak, drain, soak, drain, pat dry, fry in small batches in a fry pan. It usually takes about an hour and a half to make enough to feed everyone. It sucks, but for once I pretended that I was having a blast sweating over a pan of bubbling oil.
I don't know why, but I am still amazed at the selfishness and incompetence of so many parents I see. I really don't know why they become parents in the first place. The only thing I can equate it to is people that will get a puppy, but when the cuteness wears off, the dog is tied up, mostly forgotten in the back yard.
I know it isn't PC to say so and it certainly isn't in line with my usual civil liberties political leanings, but I really wish that only people that were going to be adequate (not even good, just frigging adequate!!!) could become parents.
I often hear people wail about how much they 'love' their kids or some idiot tries to justify some other idiots lousy parenting with the 'but they really love their kids' excuse. I could vomit! Love is not a noun. It is a verb.
The kind of 'love' these people are talking about is a selfish and twisted thing. It is solely to feed their needs with nothing left for the child. It is like a bad romance.
I just want to smack someone.